Author Note: I own nothing of Labyrinth.

Content Warning: This story contains scenes of sexual assault and drug use. Please take care.

1989

Sarah Williams had never stopped craving connection to the Underground. She still made her silent wishes to return, wishes she knew better than to say out loud. In some ways, it had felt more like a home to her in the hours that she had been there than her own mortal plane of existence ever had.

She was still the same dreamer, the same girl who would rather have her head in a fantasy novel than actually engage in her own life around her. Although considered a woman by society's standards, her heart still lived deep within her childhood. Her bedroom remained largely the same, she even kept the same little red book tucked safely under her pillow. She would read through it every so often, whispering the only words she dared read aloud: You have no power over me.

She struggled to form friendships and firmly rejected romantic invitations from the many boys, and men, for that matter, who made attempts at wooing her. It wasn't that she was oblivious to their attentions, she just didn't care. Instead, her mind and body betrayed her with memories of a ballroom, and the Goblin King who had lead her in a waltz. She'd rather secretly fantasize about being swept away in his embrace than let anyone else get too near. Those were her most private thoughts, images she held close to her chest. She shared them with no one, not even Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo.

Although she was still in her senior year of high school, Sarah was advanced enough in acting to be placed in a college level drama course. It was there that she met Paul. Paul was a few years older than Sarah, and his aura oozed of sex and experience. They'd talked for weeks before she'd admitted to him that she had never shared a kiss with anyone. Not a real kiss, not something more than a peck on the cheek. This seemed to light a fire in him, a desire to conquer her lips and be the first. His need disarmed Sarah, and stirred feelings in her that she had at first tried to ignore. She pushed him away, time and time again, telling him she wasn't ready to be close to someone in that way.

One evening, Sarah was sitting on the edge of her bed with Paul, a chaste distance between them, as they practiced lines for a scene they shared. Her mind wandered for a moment as she imagined what it would feel like to have the Goblin King sitting beside her instead. She quickly pushed the thought aside, tuning back in to Paul's explanations of why they should be intimate. She fidgeted with her hands nervously, a feeling of unease creeping up her neck. "Paul, we've been over this, I don't want to-" she started to explain, but he interrupted her by roughly pressing his lips to hers. Murmuring promises against her unresponsive mouth, he attempted to deepen the kiss. Through her shock, she started to clumsily return the kiss. His hands began to roam, then grabbed at her greedily. She pushed him away in surprise, looking at him with hurt and betrayal in her eyes.

"Paul," she stammered. "I didn't want-"

He stood up abruptly with a frustrated huff. Stalking to the door, he turned around only to say, "You're frigid, you know that?"

She sat there, shocked, with bruised lips and a wounded heart.

The weekend passed without a word from him. Her stomach was in a knot of anxiety. On Sunday night, Sarah decided to call him. Drama class was the next day. Better to iron things out ahead of time rather than have it be unbearably awkward during rehearsal, she thought, as she heard the line pick up.

"Hello?" His voice sounded cold and far away.

"Hi," she started, "Paul, I-"

Before she could say anything else, he interjected, "Look, Sarah, this isn't going to work. I'm in love with someone else."

Sitting at her vanity, Sarah brushed hot tears from her cheeks and faced her mirror. "Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo, I need you."

They appeared in her room with joyous expressions at being called upon. Their celebratory mood dampened immediately upon seeing her face.

"My lady," Didymus began, concern in his voice.

"Sarah!" exclaimed Hoggle, alarmed.

Ludo, never one of many words, just reached for her, pulling her into a gentle hug.

She buckled then, sobbing as she relayed the events leading up to their reunion. She told them of the kiss that had been stolen, and of the dismissal that had felt so cruel. They listened attentively while she poured out her heartbreak.

"I feel so used," she whimpered against Ludo's furry chest. "It should have been Jareth's lips, not his."

Hoggle gasped in horror, kicking her in the shin lightly. "Don't go saying that! He'll hear you!"

"Let him," she sniffed.

They didn't know quite what to say to that, but remained there in supportive silence. Human matters were beyond them, and this specific human matter made Hoggle, in particular, more than a little uncomfortable. Regardless, they loved her enough to remain present and hold space for her while she wept.

After a time, she stood a little straighter in Ludo's arms and declared, "I need to go to bed, shake this whole thing off. Thank you for coming. You're good friends."

"Sawah," Ludo replied.

She smiled at him tearily. "I love you too, Ludo."

"Should you need us, my lady," Didymus insisted, looking at her warmly as he began to fade away.

"Yes, should you need us." Hoggle confirmed, the edges around him growing fuzzy.

Ludo said nothing more, but gave her another quick squeeze before they disappeared completely.

At their departure, she released a sob of aching loneliness. I wish I could follow them back to the Underground, she mused, roughly wiping her tears on the sleeve of her nightshirt, I wish I didn't have to stay in this awful place. She sank down onto her bed, letting herself become lost in memories of her run through the Labyrinth, a time before adulthood had started to blur the corners of her life.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from her closed window. Puzzled, she looked over to see an owl tapping expectantly on the glass. No way, she thought, jolting upright. As she sat frozen on her bed, blinking disbelievingly, the owl's tapping grew more persistent, its gaze fixed directly on hers.

Sarah's heart leapt to her throat. No normal owl would actually look right at me like that, right? She thought, her mind racing, before she reminded herself that a normal owl would more than likely not be knocking at her window in the first place. Gathering her nerves, blood pounding in her ears, she climbed off of her bed and padded over to the window. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath before opening the shutters.

The owl hopped onto the windowsill, but made no further movement to enter her bedroom. It tilted its head to the side, considering her, as if waiting for an invitation.

She gazed down at him, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. After a moment, she smiled a little through her still falling tears. "Come in, Goblin King."

There was a flurry of feathers and glitter as Jareth appeared before her. He stood tall in heeled black boots. Gray leggings clung tightly to him, and his white poet's shirt hung open. He looked very much the same as he had years before, not having aged a day. His posture, however, was different, more open. Gone was the antagonistic and menacing expression from her time in the Labyrinth. Leaning casually against the window frame, he swept his eyes over her, a frown etching his angular features.

She took a step back. "Hi," she blurted out, not knowing what else to say and feeling silly at her sudden lack of vocabulary. She slumped a little under his scrutinizing gaze, wiping self consciously at the tears that still clung to her lashes. "Are you here to gloat over how little power I have?"

"On the contrary, Sarah." He made a small movement as if to reach out to her, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand came to rest on his hip. "I am here to remind you of just how much power you do have."

Sarah blinked. "What? Why would you— I mean, aren't we—" her hands motioned between them, "—enemies?" She paused, then added in a much smaller voice, "Don't you hate me?"

"Sarah." He took a half step closer. "I hold no more hate for you than you do for me." A knowing smile played on his lips.

She shrank away from him, embarrassed at the implication. Noting this, he carefully neutralized his expression, not wanting to deepen her embarrassment.

"But, I won, I—"

Jareth shrugged dismissively. "What's done is done. You made a wish, I fulfilled it. We played a game, that game has ended. I do not consider you a foe. In fact, I am quite—" he searched for the right word, "—dismayed to see you so distressed."

Sarah wondered at this. Is this some kind of trick? She searched his face for amusement, or any hint of mischief, finding neither. She wanted to ask him why it dismayed him, but felt a whisper of fear at the idea.

"I didn't call on you. How…?" She trailed off, unable to complete her thought, pinned by his penetrating gaze.

His eyes glinted with a warm smile. She had never seen his smile reach his strange eyes before. "You did call on me, in your own way, Sarah. Your power is stronger than you think."

Her cheeks reddened and she crossed her arms over her chest with a groan. "You heard what I said to Hoggle about—"

He cut her off. "Yes, I did." He paused, considering. "But we won't discuss that tonight, young one. That isn't why I am here."

She sighed in both relief and disappointment. "Okay… then why are you here?"

While carefully maintaining a comfortable distance between them, Jareth stepped forward and took one of her hands in his, lacing their fingers together. Her heart began to pound anew at the nearness of him. No one had ever held her hand like that before.

"I'm here to remind you that your power is yours to give, sweetling. He had no right to take anything from you." His tone was softer than she had ever heard it before.

Her breath caught in her throat. "You were watching?" She cringed away from him. "Do you… do you spy on me?"

Jareth recoiled slightly at her word choice. "You'll forgive me for checking in on you from time to time, Sarah, particularly when I am in your thoughts." His lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "I felt a… pull."

Sarah froze. "You can read my thoughts?"

"Not exactly," Jareth explained, "but I can feel them. The content of your thoughts are vague, but the emotions are palpable. There is a certain tug on my magic when you are thinking of my home realm. Or—" his eyes narrowed slightly, "—of me."

"Oh, god," she wailed, covering her face with her free hand. "I didn't need any more humiliation tonight, but this really is the icing on the cake."

"Sarah." He delicately pulled her hand away from her face, encouraging her to look at him. "If it makes you feel at all reassured, I took no pleasure from the whole distasteful display." He hesitated before continuing, gripping her hand a little more tightly. "From what I witnessed, you had clearly told him 'no.'"

She huffed. 'But I kissed him back."

He tutted at that. "That's not how consent works, Sarah. You said 'no.'" His tone was firm and calm, but Sarah could hear a current of agitation.

Straightening defensively as new tears tracked down her face, she announced, "I don't need you to patronize me, Goblin King. I'm a grown woman."

He chuckled lightly before he could stop himself. "No, you're not, and that's perfectly all right."

She started to protest, but he interjected, "Sarah, there's nothing wrong with being eighteen and experiencing your first pangs of heartbreak. You're still figuring this all out. Give yourself time to grow up, do not rush it with unrealistic expectations of yourself."

She just looked at their joined hands, taking in his words. Her pride stung a little, but she considered that he might be right. She suddenly became very fixated on toeing the edge of her rug, unable to meet his eyes. "So, can you hear—" she stopped to correct herself, "—I mean, can you feel the thoughts of everyone who runs the Labyrinth?"

He scoffed at that. "Only those who are successful."

She considered this. "How many have been successful?"

Jareth squeezed her fingers. "One."

Her eyes abandoned the rug and darted to his, surprised. They looked at each other for a long moment before Sarah could make herself ask her next question.

"So, what does that mean?"

Jareth regarded her for a beat before answering. "You and I are…bound, to simplify a rather complicated topic. You spoke the words. You speak them still, and yes, I do feel it when you speak them, Sarah." He paused to wink at her. "In the process of removing any power I held over you, you, in turn, began to acquire your own magic."

Her mouth fell open at the news that he could feel her saying the words in the privacy of her own bedroom. Once she recovered, his assertion that she was somehow magical began to sink in.

Sarah swallowed. "You can't possibly mean—"

"I do not know what it means just yet, as it is rather unprecedented and your power is only beginning to develop." His eyes roamed the room briefly as if searching for clues.

Sarah frowned, torn between being thrilled at having magic, and trepidation over the unknown. She looked up at Jareth to find his eyes fixed on hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words caught in her throat as he moved a stray strand of hair from her damp cheek with his gloved fingers. Tucking it behind her ear, he asked, "Might I make a suggestion?"

Her body stiffened, ready for an insult, still struggling to accept this ostensibly benevolent Goblin King. "What's that?"

"While you are powerful, you are only human. And still very young. It's all right to hurt from what that—" He grimaced in distaste, "—boy did to you. But don't be hard on yourself, Sarah. You took a risk and the result was pain. To feel pain is to be human. It will pass."

She contemplated his words before asking, "If you care so much about my wellbeing, why didn't you stop it? I mean, if you saw the whole thing—" she cringed, "—why didn't you, I don't know, poof him away?" She waggled her fingers.

He sighed. "It is not my place to interject myself in the normal events of your growing up, my dear. But if it helps, I did want to."

Sarah studied his face, looking for insincerity, still unconvinced this wasn't a bad joke.

"Sarah." He leveled his eyes with hers and looked at her gravely. "I know it may feel as if he is gone forever, but he isn't. He will be back. And I do not tell you this by way of comforting you or giving you false hope of a fairytale romance with him like you read about in your books." He nodded toward her full bookcase. "I tell you this as a warning: That boy wants nothing more than to take from you. To devour the very light that is you. Do not trust him, Sarah."

"What if I love him?" she asked abruptly, youthful conviction in her voice.

Jareth chuckled softly. "You can love someone and still guard yourself." His tone grew more serious." Hear me, Sarah, and keep your distance."

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him dubiously. "And how do I know you're not just meddling?"

He sighed again, stepping back to give her space. "Believe what you will, but know this: If you need me in the future, you need just speak my name. If you need me to take you away, use your right words."

With that, he was gone, only a billowing curtain covering her open window left as evidence that he was ever there at all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I have 12 chapters of this story written. I will be posting regularly.